Zenna Vortex: Wind, Speed, and Flame 1: Wind
by LA Knight
Summary: John Blaze & Dan Ketch are Ghost Riders, sworn as Spirits of Vengeance. But the Third Rider comes, to stop Lillith from destroying everything. Johnny and Danny will protect her, but it is Blackheart who will take her: mind, body, & soul.
1. Prophecy

**Ghost Rider III**

**Wind, Speed, and Flame**

.

**Prologue  
The Prophecy of the Riders**

.

Wind, speed, and flame will rise from the ashes  
Wind, speed, and flame with burn in the night  
Wind, speed, and flame with Ride through the Darkness  
Slaying the demons and bringing the light 

Wind is a shadow of both East and West  
Speed is a daredevil, recklessness his test  
Flame is mortal man with broken heart  
These three will tear the darkness apart

Beware the betrayal of the earth and the waters

Trust in the fire, the shadow, the dark

Beware the hearts of beauty and the wind

Remember the meaning of the first new spark

Wind is woman with a warrior's spirit

Wind is a shadow of both West and East

Wind rides like her name and burns in the dark

Gives her soul to the light and her heart to the beast

Speed is a daredevil, recklessness his test

Chains of love keep him anchored to the light

Once in pay of the Devil before being betrayed

He conquers the demon to continue the fight

Flame is the second to Ride through the night

He gave his soul to save a life

Flame is a mortal man with a broken heart

Bound up in the fate of a demon of strife

Wind, speed, and flame will rise from the ashes  
Wind, speed, and flame with burn in the night  
Wind, speed, and flame with Ride through the Darkness  
Slaying the demons and bringing the light 

.

.

.

.

.

**Author's Note:** _I figured I ought to write out the basic prophecy because it's referred to often in the text. So here it is as the prologue. However, there are other prophecies that will make appearances. We're basically dealing with Armageddon here, so lots of visions and stuff have been seen and spoken about it. Review?_


	2. Fire Will Burn Thee To the Bare Bone

**Ghost Rider III**

**Wind, Speed, and Flame**

.

**Chapter One  
Fire Will Burn Thee To the Bare Bone ….**

.

"Speak, or suffer." A careless shrug of delicate shoulders. "I care not, Mephistopheles."

The King of Hell - chained by blessed silver, speared with spikes of white oak, and scalded by holy water - looked up between the rivulets of blood running down his wrinkled face at the slender, pale woman in front of him. How? How had he ever found her enticing? This feral witch, eyes glinting like jagged black ice with suppressed mirth, with malice, watched as he struggled to fight through the kind of pain he hadn't known in centuries.

Black.

The first thing he saw when he looked at _her_was black. Her black gown, a thing of ragged silk that clung to every milk white curve, billowed and writhed on imaginary winds, serpentine strands of sheer black material. The witch looked as if she were being engulfed by a coil of phantasmal, sable silk serpents. Her hair - blacker than a raven's wing - hung in a tenebrous cascade over her narrow shoulders, pouring like poison down her back. Jagged talons painted like obsidian blades glinted in the torch light, promising pain. Ebony lips curled into a smirk that held much self-satisfaction.

Mephistopheles knew that after this, he would loathe the color black.

The only alleviating color against the nearly blinding, icy whiteness of her skin and the near impenetrable blackness of the demon witch standing so haughtily before the Dark Prince was the crimson splashing her otherwise pale hands.

Blood. His blood. The only color in the black stone cell of Hell's lowest dungeon. Even Lilith's eyes had lost their normal acid green tint. Twin pools of onyx glass in her death pale face reflected the flickering torchlight. Her gaze raked him like talons. The thin, black needle-teeth of the Demon Kind, bared in an abyssal grin, stretched at her face, twisting it from its ethereal seductive beauty into something freakish and mortally terrifying.

The demon lord hissed in pain when Lillith drove the silver-tipped, oak spike she held in her elegant hands through his shoulder, cutting through flesh and muscle until the point stuck in bone. Snarling, eyes red with fury, Mephistopheles growled, "think you can defeat me, witch? You think you and Asmodai can take the _SeeInfernum_from me? Do you not know who I am? You will fail in this, Lillith."

"Can I take the Throne? Why, yes, actually. I think I can manage quite well. Don't you, dear? "

The Mother of Demons sank to her knees in front of the Devil, once her Consort, smiling. Her lips were a hair's breadth away from his mouth. As she spoke, her lips brushed against his skin, a mockery of a kiss. Devilish exhalations like sulfur and the poisonous zephyrs that were Lillith's breath mingled between them, and for a moment, the Prince of Darkness remembered what it had been like to rule Hell with this demon queen at his side.

Obsidian eyes took on a razor edge that cut at Mephistopheles's skin, like her talons, drawing black ichor that might have been blood.

"You see, once we have you out of the way, there is only your little Riders. Ketch and Blaze. Speed and Flame. Mortals, darling. Only mortals. You think you can frighten me with human spawn? I am Lillith. Once the Mistress of Hell, still the Mother of All Demons. You silly devil. "Even as she let out a tittering little laugh, her hand swiped across his face.

_SLAP!_

Blood seeped from the new slash wounds in Mephistopheles' cheek, four raked furrows from Lillith's claws, filling quickly with blood. He grunted and eyed the demoness in front of him with pure loathing. Once his Queen, now she would die at his hands. He would desecrate her, butcher her, and then he would drink her blood and devour her corpse. For decades, the High Lord of Hell had known that Lillith plotted to invade the Infernal Dimension, planned to wrestle the authority to rule the realm from him and then murder him. She, and that snake in the grass, Asmodai, Arch-Demon of Lust. The Devil had had decades of warning, and decades to plan.

They thought they could take over Hell? They would soon see the error of their ways... and die.

"Blackheart tried to dethrone me, "he reminded her, grinning inside. A tiny thrill shot through him when she wrinkled her brow and pouted. He knew that look. She tried to hide her perplexity at the sudden change of subject. The Devil continued, "tried... and failed."

The Mother of Demons chuckled, her voice like honey set out to entrap the stupid flies.

"Blackheart? Our second eldest 'son?' Ah, yes, I remember well how powerful and intelligent our son was. "Her voice choked the air with scorn. The contempt was clear on her face. The knife edge to her voice would have drawn blood from stone. "lost to your first Rider, if I remember correctly. But you see, _my_undead armies are strong enough to defeat both the Riders. Both Ketch and Blaze. The demons Zarathos and Petbe are no match for my lovely dark forces.

"Besides, Blackheart was weak. It is really better for everyone that you had him executed. "

Ah. Excellent. The one gamble in his plan, and it had played out just fine. So Lilith thought that the demon known as Blackheart was dead, did she? The old Devil grinned, showing his true smile for once. Sulfur tinged with blood spewed from his mouth in a crimson cloud as he laughed, brimstone melting in his throat. Teeth rotted to darkness gleamed in his mouth, pushed against his paper thin lips, needles and razor-thin thorns. His eyes darkened to empty blackness, twin pits with no bottoms, depthless, eternal.

Lilith recoiled. She loathed his true form. The true shape of Mephistopheles frightened even the Mother of All Demons. But the Devil's laughter enraged her.

"_What is so damn funny?_ "

" 'Good thing I had Blackheart executed,' eh? And who is to say that I did? "The Demon King gave a weak chuckle at the vicious look warping the beautiful demon queen'face. Blood dripped into his eyes. It rolled down his cheeks like ruby tears. The effort of breathing continued to stab his chest and lungs as broken ribs screamed protests. Still, he managed to laugh at Lillith and her impotent fury. He knew it would gall her when she learned that he had anticipated her coup and made preparations against her.

"You're lying! "

He giggled maniacally. She shrieked at him, clawing his face and shoulders with her obsidian talons, "_Liar!_Where is he, then? Where is my son?"Her pitch black eyes blazed with twin embers in the depths of her gaze as she screamed and raked at the Devil chained before her.

"I sent him after the third Rider. You know the prophecy.

"_Wind, speed, and flame will rise from the ashes.  
Wind, speed, and flame with burn in the night.  
Wind, speed, and flame with Ride through the Darkness,  
Slaying the demons and bringing the light.  
Wind is a shadow of both East and West,  
Speed is a daredevil, recklessness his test.  
Flame is mortal man with broken heart.  
These three will tear the darkness apart. _

"Once the Riders are banded together, they will destroy you. And Blackheart knows just where to find the last Rider. "

"You lie! "The desperation in her voice scorched the air. Mephistopheles smelled the stench of sulfur, noxious as rotten eggs.

"Do I? "He asked, wheezing with laughter. His chest burned. The Devil wondered if it were possible for him to die, here in the Tartaran dungeons. "I indeed?"

"You will pay for this, "Lillith hissed, her eyes burning with hellfire. She held out her hand, touching the wrinkled face with its skin like tissue paper, and snarled five words imbued with torment. Agony ripped through Mephistopheles, and his screams reverberated off the raven glass windows of the Black Palace.

Striding out of the dungeons, Lillith sprinted up the stairs, all the while shrieking like a banshee, "! Asmodai! Bring me a soul seed!"

She had a plan for her second son. Oh, yes, she most certainly had a plan.

.

.

.

.

**Author's Note:** _I own nothing that isn't copyrighted by me. The title of this chapter is a line from an old poem called the Lyke Wake Dirge. And I made up The Prophecy of the Riders. What did you think? Cheesy? Or cool? This chapter is 1500 words long about. I'm experimenting by trying to keep each chapter no shorter than 1200 and no longer than 1600 words, and see if I can still set mood and describe stuff well and everything._

_Reviews?_

_**Translation**: See Infernum is Latin for Infernal Seat (aka Throne of Hell)_


	3. Fire and Candlelight

**Ghost Rider III**

**Wind, Speed, and Flame**

.

**Chapter Two  
Fire and Fleet and Candlelight ….**

.

Johnny Blaze dropped his helmet to the floor and, sinking onto the beat up couch Roxie had managed to salvage from Good Will a year ago, propped his aching feet up on the coffee table. Danny Ketch threw his black leather coat onto the floor beside Johnny's helmet and threw himself down onto the armchair that most certainly didn't match the couch. Johnny's girlfriend, Roxanne, typed away at her laptop from the love seat that sat alone in the living room away from the other lounging furniture, isolated by bookcases and side tables. She had several official looking documents spread out on the side table/desk lamp beside her. The stub of her votive candle, now only a puddle of cooled wax, told Johnny that she'd been praying for their safety again.

Since discovering that Mephistopheles was a real person, not just a scare tactic for Sunday school kids, Roxanne had become a very devout Catholic. She'd even gotten a rosary from the Vatican, made of consecrated silver and blessed with holy water, which she wore around her neck at all times.

"Hard day at the office, boys? "The ex-television reporter asked absently. She glanced at the digital readout on her watch. It was just after dawn, a quarter to seven. Thankfully it was Saturday, so she had the day to herself and could relax on the couch and pursue her little pet project.

"Something like that, "Dan muttered. "time I let Zarathos out of the cage, I end up with a raging headache afterwards. It's worse than being hungover. Did he ever do that to you?"

Johnny chuckled. ". My first morning after, felt like my skull was on fire."

"Har-dee-frickin-har, "the other Rider growled at his brother, and kicked off his black combat boots. Something that might have been blood but was probably maroon paint flaked off the heels. The young Ghost Rider wriggled his toes, enjoying the feel of being able to move his feet without bumping into the confines of his shoes. He was going to have to get new boots again. Crap.

"Hey, Johnny, Dan …."Roxanne called from the sofa, looking up from her laptop. "…did you know your mom was an egg donor where she used to live?"

Both heads went up, and the ex-reporter couldn't stop her brain from making that _cha-ching_sound she used to mutter under her breath when all of her digging and snooping finally paid off with a humongous lead in a story. She'd been researching Naomi Kale all night, waiting for the guys to get back. The two of them out there alone freaked her out. She couldn't help but worry about them. To take her mind off of it all, she'd done some digging into the Ghost Rider legends, and come across a man whose name sounded familiar – Kale. After hours of wracking her brains, she'd remembered where she'd heard the name, and gone a-snooping. Now she'd discovered the one thing Johnny and Danny had had in common before the curse of the Rider had been put on them – Naomi Kale, Johnny's mother. And if the one thing the two Ghost Riders had in common with each other could be a common factor with someone else, they might be able to figure out if Mephistopheles was planning on making any more Riders.

"What? "Johnny said. "are you looking up Mom…oh, heck."The first Rider stared at the laptop, his face twisted with horror and dawning realization. "related to us through Mom could become…Mephisto could…son of a..."He trailed off, unable to verbalize under the weight of the realization.

Johnny leapt to his feet and began pacing, running his hands through his hair and muttering under his breath. His girlfriend watched him for a long time from the corner of her eye as she looked for the results of Naomi's egg donor-ship. Would it pan out to anything? Had there been any children, or were those eggs still in the deep freeze, still unused? Watching her, Johnny growled, then flung at Roxanne, "light some more candles for the kid's soul, Roxie. He's gonna need it."

After several more clicks, clacks, and beeps, Roxie found the information she'd been looking for. Catching her boyfriend's eye, she gave him the news.

"Not a he, "Roxanne informed him and Dan. "just got done checking the database and there was only one child. At least as of this date. Her name is…Kaze Kumori…wow, I can'even pronounce this last name. She'half Japanese, she lives in... I've never even heard of this place... Blocksville, California. Where the heck is that?"

"That's a really out of the way suburb of San Francisco, "Danny told his half-brother and Roxie. ". A girl. A girl? Would the Devil even want a chick for a Ghost Rider? It's never been done before, has it?"He looked at the ex-reporter, who shook her head. "we don't have to worry."

"Unless he wants to try something different, "the first Rider replied shortly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans. He leaned against the back of the couch, thinking aloud as Roxie continued to click away at the keys on her laptop. What was she looking for now? "he figures, we won't hurt a girl. Especially not our own sister. So maybe he'll use her to take us out. Tell her we're bad guys or something. It's not like it's never been done before. Didn't you watch cartoons as a kid?"

"Yeah, "Roxie said, "was this one episode of _Rainbow Brite_..."At the incredulous look on ex-stunt man's face, she ended the tidbit with, "mind."

"What's he going to do to her? We can't attack our own sister, I mean... I hate this job! Argh! That Mephistopheles is getting too smart, way too smart. We're in trouble if he decides to use her against us. I don't even know if Zarathos and Petbe can be controlled in a fight like that, so what the frack are we supposed to do? "

"Jeez, Johnny, you sound angry enough to take on a legion. You don 'really think we can keep her away from that demon freak if he really wants her, do you?"Danny asked. ", who'to say he even wants her? I mean, really? I think you're just being paranoid."

"How about we just go check her out, and if we see any kind of evil around her, we kick demonic butt? I mean, even if there's no chance that he's going to turn her into one of us, that doesn't mean that we shouldn't check her out. We just found out we have a sister, Dan. I'm an only child, but wouldn't it be great to have a sister? "

"Yeah, "Danny replied softly, looking lost in thought for a long moment. "it would. That's a great idea. Let'go…uh, where does she live again?"

"Um... "Roxanne scanned the computer screen until she found an address. ", San Francisco,"she rattled off. "Nine-five-one-nine WestShang Ridge Lane."

"Let's go!"

_._

_._

_._

_._

_**Author's Note:**__ I'm beefing up the chapters. Too short. And I made the prologues chapters because not every story MUST have a prologue. We're fine with how it is. Anyways, hope you like it. This is an experiment with 2-3 page chapters, to see if I can keep things tight and well paced. Good practice. Anyway, reviews are awesome. I love my readers!_

_Also – the address is fake. There's no such place as Blocksville. It's an homage to one of my favorite authors, Francesca Lia Block. The address is an homage to 3 of her anthologies (Girl Goddess #9 – 9 short stories – and the Weetzie Bat book, Dangerous Angels – 5 books in 1 – and the Rose and the Beast – also 9 short stories). Shang Ridge Lane, if you only use the first 2 letters of the second and third words, you get Shangrila, or Shangri-L.A. (a concept found in her Weetzie Bat novels)._

_Reviews? Yes? Loves?_


	4. Story Alert

**Story Alert**

Official note: because this fanfic could be so much better than it is, and the only reason it's not that way is my own laziness, I'm going to revamp the whole thing. There isn't enough time for Blackheart to fall for Kumori, there isn't enough time to show her mastery of her Ghost Rider powers, there isn't enough time for the plot to thicken, etc. So I'm revamping it, adding events, adding chapters, lengthening already existing chapters, etc. Marvel is a brilliant universe and it deserves far more of my time and attention than I've hitherto been giving it.

I'm going to try and have the first 6 redone chapters up by next Wednesday.

Yours,

_LA Knight_


	5. Receive Thy Soul

**Ghost Rider III**

**Wind, Speed, and Flame**

.

**Chapter Three  
... Receive Thy Soul ….**

.

So, he'd found her. The third Ghost Rider. This slip of a girl was to be the final Rider of the trinity. This girl, this Kaze Kumori, the Wind Shadow, moved with a fluid grace as she slid through her latest Ken-Do routine. Her bamboo practice weapon cut through the air with a faint whistling sound. Her hair flew over her shoulder in a sheet of ebony silk as she brought the sword around and down, saluted, and ended the routine.

Apparently she was a fighter. Unless it was only the formal, useless forms that she knew, but somehow he doubted that. Did not the prophecy say that the Third Rider would be a woman with a warrior's spirit? She either knew instinctively how to fight, as some did, or she had been trained.

But could she ride, that was the question. And _what_ could she ride? A motorcycle, a horse, a moped? He'd have to find out.

The demon prince watched the girl as she stretched. A faint, crimson glow outlined her lithe body, a visible representation of what the vengeance demon attached to her fate was doing to her body. Without that abyssal influence, Blackheart knew she would barely be able to move, much less flow like water through her fighting forms. After the accident that would have proved fatal without supernatural intervention, the vengeance demoness Alecto had been bonded to the Rider's soul to keep the girl alive. Apparently, Alecto's presence had unforeseen side effects.

Shaking off his introspection, Blackheart spat a thick black wad of tar onto his hands and slicked back his hair. Checking the side mirror on his motorcycle, he saw his teeth were white and sharp, his hair perfect, his skin still pale as a fish. His black leathers were shiny, the steel toes of his boots sparkling. He looked… hot.

_Not for long, Blackheart__…__._

He blinked and looked around, throwing out his senses, but felt nothing – no Riders, no angelic beings, no demonic presences. Shrugging, the prince got off his bike and started walking towards the clearing in Kurohoshi Park where the Rider stood doing what looked like ballet stretches, when a stabbing pain pierced his chest, near where his heart would have been had he possessed one.

_What__…__ what__…__.!_

His mental words were garbled, but they were all he could manage to get out as something hot as blue fire and sharp as obsidian plunged into his chest. The world began to burn out to white. Gasping for air, the demon's knees buckled and he slid to the ground. What felt like blood bubbled up in his throat, choking him.

_I won__'__t let you win, Blackheart. I've waited too long for this. But I will make you suffer before the end. Take this as my curse, my son, and let__'__s see how long it takes to fester__…__._

Suddenly he howled in pain as a bright burning flare erupted inside of his chest and shattered his ribcage into a thousand molten pieces. Pain, such pain, as something white hot filled his veins and seared his bones. His blood bubbled and his bones melted. Tasting blood in his mouth, feeling pain ricochet through his jaw as he gritted his teeth near to breaking, his heart began to slam into his sternum. Cracks spider-webbed through the bone.

What was this? What was happening?

He blinked, and found himself lying on his back, staring up into the face of an angel. Her long black hair curtained around his face, and her brilliant, cobalt blue eyes were bright with concern. He could taste her anxiety on the back of his tongue. Her pulse flickered at the base of her throat. Everything was sharp and focused, full of knife edges and white sparkles. His head swam.

"Sir… are you all right? I heard you cry out…." Her voice was like the wind, soft and hesitant.

"Y-yes…." The shakiness in his voice was not all feigned. With the unexplainable agony only just beginning to fade, the demon prince was not entirely in control of himself. But savage exultation burst through him as his sluggish brain recognized the face above him. This was the Rider girl! Playing on her concern, he added, "I… my chest… it hurts…."

"Here," she murmured and helped him sit up, one strong arm wrapped around his broad shoulders. "I'll call an ambulance-"

"Oh, no, don't."

That was an act, the earnestness in his voice, the sincerity and pleading in his eyes. He had to suck her in, make her believe he was harmless, hurt, gentle. Otherwise, her Rider instinct – and Alecto's sharp extrasensory perception – would alert her to his demonic alter ego. He couldn't afford to let that happen, not yet.

"Well," Kumori replied, pushing back the curtain of her shiny, black hair, hair like midnight, "let me drive you to the hospital – "

Now was the somewhat hard part. He cut her off with a soft touch of his ice cold fingertips to her warm lips, murmuring, "No… no hospital. I can't afford it."

The lie came easily, all part of the act. But that wasn't the difficult part. Already, the chill of his touch was burning through her veins, numbing her. The demon prince would have to be careful not to put too much of his power into her, or he would kill her. Already, her lips were beginning to darken to blue. Blackheart only kept his fingers on her lips until he captured her gaze with his. Then he took his hand away. He stared into her blue, blue eyes, drowning her with the midnight of his gaze. It was so easy... and she slid into his power like a fish into water.

"Let me take you to my home, at least," she whispered softly. Goosebumps were erupting along her bare arms. His dark influence slid through her brain, prompting her. "For tea, if nothing else."

He looked doubtful, but inside he grinned like a feral creature. That was exactly the invitation he'd been angling for. His powers blazed through him and into her, pulling her in the exact direction the demon prince desired. Excellent. Blackheart had to fight the urge to stretch his mouth into the monstrous, mutant grin owned by his natural form.

"Thank you, Miss…."

"Majitsukaen-Kale Kaze-Kumori."

"Blackheart. Daemon Blackheart."

.

.

.

**Author's Note:** _So this is chapter three. Like I said, beefing up, adding description, action, explanation, dialogue, etc. I watched Ghost Rider at work today and it really galvanized me. Yay. So, reviews for my awesomeness?_


	6. Fire and Sleet and Candlelight Pt1

**Ghost Rider II**

**Wind, Speed, and Flame**

**Chapter Four  
Fire and Sleet and Candlelight  
Part I**

.

.

Blackheart sipped the steaming willow tea in the delicate China cup, watching Kaze Kumori move around her kitchen as gracefully as a ballet dancer.

_Not surprising,_ he thought to himself, taking in with a casual glance the photographs of the beautiful girl in the gauzy costumes balanced on the points of her toes. He saw the blue Equestrian ribbons, the gold trophies and medals, the martial arts belts hung on the wall, the swords, the pair of white sparkling ice skates, the pink satin dancing slippers covered in glitter. No pictures of any family. All to the good, as far as the demon prince was concerned.

"So… what was your name again?" He asked, sipping the hot tea. It was really quite soothing, the warm liquid running down his throat. It burned away the ache that his strange pain-attack had settled into his limbs and belly. Flecks of cinnamon floated on the surface of the tea.

"My mother named me Kaze-Kumori – it means 'wind shadow' – because she wanted me to be quick, but silent. The perfect servant girl," she replied, her soft voice dripping with bitterness. Blackheart's dark eyes narrowed to black diamond sparks in his skull, and he allowed her sorrow and bitter emotion to soak into his skin, electrifying the tenebrous ichor that served as his blood. The Rider continued, "My biological mother's last name was Kale. I had it legally added to my original surname on my eighteenth birthday."

"I noticed all your trophies and ribbons. You're quite accomplished for one so young." His eyes caught the lines of strain around her mouth and eyes, lines of hurt, a pain that probably never left her body. Was she injured? Damaged somehow? He needed to know. The easiest way to find out was to know about her history as a dancer, a rider – the most obvious sources for potential injuries.

"I'm twenty-four. I'll be twenty-five in one month. But thank you."

The demon prince avidly studied her, watching how she moved, how delicate her face appeared and how slender her hands. Her hair moved like a shroud of darkness around her shoulders, falling like a curtain of silk down her back. She was really very beautiful, for a human. Probably very lonely, for all her timid beauty. Easily manipulated. Susceptible to his dark powers, most certainly/ Blackheart was certain that, with very little effort, he would have this mortal woman eating out of the palm of his hand.

"So, tell me about yourself," the girl said into the yawning silence, sitting down on the floor at the Japanese-style table by her fireplace across from him. Her thin fingers, tipped with pearlescent nails, cradled the teacup as she lifted it to her lips.

The demon prince noticed that one of her fingernails was black, blue, and purple – evidence of a blood blister beneath the nail itself. Perhaps she'd smashed it in a door or something. With the sighting of that injury, he started to notice others – the faint bruise on one cheek bone, the mottled blue and white around the swollen joints of the index finger of her left hand that made it obvious she'd jammed the digit, the split across her right eyebrow. Pitch dark eyes scanned her features, noticing the misshapen bump on the bridge of her nose, indicative of at least two breaks; the way the corner of her mouth turned down and dragged when she wasn't forcing it into a smile, bleeding into a scar that marred her right cheek. One eye was a different shade of blue than the other, and one ear was ragged at the lobe, as if an earring had been ripped out of it at one point.

Then the dark-haired prince focused on the question he'd been asked.

"Nothing much to tell," Blackheart replied, sipping the tea in between the pauses in his words. "My mother tried to murder my father." He had to fight not to smile at the way her jaw dropped. "My father abandoned me when I was young, but we contacted each other and got close again. I ride motorcycles. I'm trained to be a physical therapist. I like mint chocolate cookies – "

"Me, too!" The Rider girl cried. "I love-"

"Thin mints," he said, and grinned when she nodded happily. Of course, he was picking up the loudest of her thoughts. It was how he had discovered the name of those ridiculous cookies. Thin mints. What a foolish, human name for a foolish, human concoction. But the son of Mephistopheles would play his assigned part well. He continued, "I love thin mints. And I love this tea, it's really very good. Might I trouble you enough to have some more?"

"Oh, yes," she said, and reached for his cup.

Seizing his opportunity, Blackheart flicked out two fingers and the tips of them touched the scarred, mottled knuckles. The Rider girl immediately froze, the heated flesh where his fingertips touched suddenly burning with a cold, numbing fire that eased the pain of her jammed digits and zinged straight into her bloodstream. Mismatched blue eyes jumped to eyes the color of deep, starless space. His liquid obsidian gaze didn't hesitate to suck the unsuspecting girl in, and she couldn't tear her eyes away. In her chest, her heart began to hammer painfully, slamming a staccato rhythm against her ribs. Her breath hitched in her throat as heat suffused her body. Shivers ran up her spine like teasing, ice cold fingertips. Whips of lightning seemed to arc through her veins. Her skin buzzed with electricity.

"Kaze…."

Blackheart made his voice a whisper, breathy, hesitant. He was trying to play the shy but attracted human male, to woo her, draw her in. Once he had her under his sway, he could get her to join the side of the demons who served Mephistopheles. Carefully, he reached out and took one of her trembling hands in his. The black-haired demon knew that the rough-but-somehow-soft calluses on his palms brushing against her satin skin would send darts of sudden awareness shooting through her body. Feathering his thumb across the back of her hand, he watched the hair at the nape of her neck stand on end. He had to fight suppress a grin of triumph.

"Kaze," he repeated, voice as soft as a shadow.

"Call me Kumori," the mortal woman whispered, her breathy voice just as soft, a zephyr caressing the air around them. Blackheart could hear her pulse beating against her skin.

_Kumori, _he thought to himself, his mental voice tinged with just a hint of an abyssal growl. His eyes glittered like black beetles._ Shadow. Interesting. __"__Wind is a shadow of both West and East... gives her soul to the light and her heart to the beast...__"_

The demon prince saw her pulse fluttering in her throat, a butterfly of red silk and blood trapped beneath her flesh. Teeth sprouted in his mouth, needle thin and razor sharp. Darkness like a thousand insect eyes filled his sockets, and he had to fight to hide his reaction from the woman in front of him. The demon's mouth began to water for the taste of life just before death – the gasping death rattle, the rich blood, the life fading away into icy death.

Swiftly, as if in the blink of an eye, he was beside her, looking down into her face, his lips merely an inch from hers. His breath warmed the softness of her mouth. He could feel the tremors shaking her body, the chill rising off of her skin. Those blue, blue eyes zeroed in on his face, raking over his countenance, as if searching for something. Suddenly, the woman's flesh began to flush, her face to darken with just the beginning tints of a blush, and heat poured off of her hand in Blackheart's grip.

Alecto was beginning to wake up. He had to distract her somehow.

Immediately, he thought of his... mother and father. Lillith and Mephistopheles. How did Lillith direct the Devil's attention elsewhere when she desired? Obvious – she used her feminine wiles. Even demons felt the urges and calls of lust. In fact, it was usually harder on demons than on mortals, for their blood, thick and dark and deathly as it was, still ran towards the pleasures of the flesh. The demon prince decided he would follow his mother's example.

He murmured, lips a scant breath from hers, "Kumori… Kumori…." The demon lord could taste the trepidation and excitement on the sweetness of her breath. Blackheart inhaled the toxic carbon dioxide greedily. His eyes burned in his skull. In his grip, her hand spasmed. Her pulse jumped and leapt beneath her skin.

Carefully, ever so very carefully, he moved closer. The heat of her body caressed the iciness of his own. He was deliberately drowning her in the cavernous void of his gaze, drawing her in, trapping her like the prey she was. The demon could practically taste her soul on his tongue. His own heart began to pound with anticipation.

He parted his lips, and leaned into her.

"Don't…."

She barely even managed to breathe her single, futile protest. Anyone but a demon would not have even heard it, but he did. Her simple denial sent a shot of electric-shock thrill through his entire body. The rampant fear breathing off of her skin was an exquisite delicacy. It mingled with her natural scent until the prince had to fight not to drool over her. Oh, but that exquisite fear... that delicious fear... He reveled in it as his mouth came down on hers, softly caressing her warm, trembling lips. The Rider melted into Blackheart's graveyard cold embrace, and the demon inside of the synthetic human shell silently howled with triumph.

Outside, the wind began to shriek and scream, an icy rain began to pour, and the lights flickered off. The demon prince's arms went around her, Kumori's hands reached up to cradle his face, and the living darkness swirled around them both.

.

.

.

**Author's Note**: Definite beefing here. I tried to push the element of sensuality without getting graphic. Like... like in _the Phantom of the Opera_, during the scene for _Music of the Night_, the Phantom has his hand splayed against Christine's belly, and that's all, but the whole time you're like, "Oh, man... I can't take it. Oh, man. Argh!" That's what I was going for here – a serious sense of anticipation. Hope it worked. Reviews?


End file.
